


Character Appreciation Week - Hanschen

by FlowerSymbolism



Series: Character Appreciation Week [1]
Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Domestic, Family, Flowers of Spring, Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Married Life, Multi, One Shot, Teen Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:10:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14690946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowerSymbolism/pseuds/FlowerSymbolism
Summary: A one shot for our character appreciation week on Tumblr (also @FlowerSymbolism). Today is Hanschen day, so here's a fic about him and his son Lammermeier from our series Flowers of Spring.





	Character Appreciation Week - Hanschen

The room was quiet, and still. A warm glow from the setting sun shone through the window, casting the room in golden light. A soft ticking of the clock could be heard, the only sound filling the air. There Hanschen sat, hair as golden as the light filling the room, bare-footed and cross-legged in the centre of the bed.

The house was empty. Sofia, his wife, had taken their children Johanna and Robert to visit their grandparents, while Hanschen and his eldest son, Lammermeier, had remained home. Lammermeier had not returned home yet from visiting his friend, and so Hanschen was alone.

Laid out in front of him were letters. Hundreds of letters, all with the same Munich address in the same familiar hand on the envelope. Hanschen thought about the contents of the letters, all the love and affection the beautiful man who had written them had poured into his words and onto the page. Hanschen smiled, reaching forward and picking up a single letter, running his finger over the edges. It was rare that Hanschen had time to himself, truly, not even in his study. There was almost never a moment where he was alone in the house. Never a moment Hanschen could drop everything and just be Hanschen. He always had to be a father, and a husband. But, alone, as the sun was setting, Hanschen was himself for the first time in a long time.

He gathered up the letters, sliding any he has forgotten to clear up back into their envelopes. He had read them all again, from beginning to end. Every single one. If Ernst couldn’t be there in person, then at least he was there in words.

“Father?” He heard a faint call coming from downstairs.

“I’m up here, Lammermeier!” Hanschen called out, quickly arranging the letters and placing them carefully in the box they were kept in just as Lammermeier bounded into the room.

“Father, you won’t believe what happened tonight.”

“What, Lammermeier?” Lammermeier hopped into the bed, laying down on his back in front of his father. He turned his head and Hanschen would see the amused grin on his face. “Well, go on, at least do me the courtesy of putting me out of my misery and tell me, Lammermeier.”

“ Well,” he said, his grin widening slightly. “You know my friend, Icarus?”

“The dark haired boy, yes.”

“Well, he has a friend named Liesel, and she is a  _total_  cow.”

“Lammermeier!”

“I’m serious, father! She is just…the  _worst_. I mean truly, just…evil incarnate.” He shaked his head slowly, as if remembering how awful this girl was. “Anyway. Icarus invited me to join him and some of his friends, as you know, to go to this gathering this evening which, as you know, I did.”

“Get to the point, Lamm,” Hanschen said, poking his son with his foot.

“ _Ow_. Dad!” Lammermeier giggled, curling up to protect his stomach from further jabs. “Fine. So i’m with them, and we’re having a nice time. Icarus is showing off in the lake and Bertolt’s mama made us some dinner to picnic on. But then Liesel is suddenly is draping herself all over Icarus, and is being really touchy feely, y’know? And Icarus is  _clearly_  uncomfortable but it’s Icarus and he’s way too polite to tell her. And besides, he’s tiny, so Bertolt and I decide to tell her to leave him alone, and you’ll never believe what she did!”

Hanschen had sat watching his son, taking the information in but truly what he was watching was how much he dazzled and shone as he told his story. His son was full of heart and excitement and it was moments like these were Hanschen sat back and said to himself  _wow, he’s my son. That’s my son._ He never said he felt blessed, for he didn’t believe in the church, but if he did, the exception would be because of his son. His children. He felt like the luckiest man in the universe to have been blessed with such incredible children, children who filled him with hope, and children who would grow up into a better world than he did.

“Father! You’re supposed to say ‘ _what?_ ’. Are you even listening?” It was Lammermeier’s turn to poke his father with his foot, snapping Hanschen out of his daze.

“I’m listening! What did she do?”

“She kissed him! Right on the lips. It was awful! Icarus had no clue what to do, and the look on Bertolt’s face…I’m convinced he would have grabbed her and thrown her in the lake if he could have. He  _hated_  it.” Lammermeier frowned, sitting himself up with a huff. “It was so…uncomfortable.”

“I can imagine. Did you say anything to her?”

“Icarus just kinda sat there, then Bertolt started yelling at her, and she went home crying.” He looked concerned, and a hint of guilt flickered over his face. “Icarus went home after that…It wasn’t a great night.”

“Well, it sounded like you had fun up until that point, at least.” Hanschen tried his best to give his son a smile, nudging him encouragingly.

“I suppose. Although I would have liked to spend for time with Icarus.”

“Icarus? I didn’t know you two were that close, I thought you only met a few days ago.”

“We did but…” Lammermeier faltered, looking up at his father. Hanschen noticed an odd look in his eyes that he’d never really seen before in his some. Something like remorse, but not quite… “I would like to get to know him better.”

Hanschen nodded, and with a huff hauled himself up off the bed. He lifted his chin, gesturing to the door. “Come on. It’s late. Bedtime.”

“I’m not a child, father. I don’t have a bedtime anymore.”

“You don’t, but I do, and I wish to sleep. We can talk more about this in the morning, if you’d like. Perhaps you should write it down? It may make you feel better. In your nice notebook your mother and I bought you.”

“I think I will. I’ve been using that notebook an awful lot since you bought it for me, father. Really, it’s wonderful.”

“You like writing, Lammermeier?”

“Sometimes.” He looked down sheepishly, as if embarrassed by this. “It helps. A lot.”

“Well, good.” Hanschen placed his hand on his son’s shoulder, and gave him a knowing look. He had recognized the look on his son’s face earlier, and although he didn’t want to jump to conclusions, he figured he knew where his son’s fascination with his friend Icarus was going. He hoped he was wrong, for he knew how much trouble and pain it had caused him, but even so, something in the back of his mind told him that he should brace himself for when Lammermeier figured it out. For when Lammermeier decided to tell him, if he ever would.

“Goodnight, dad.” Lammermeier gave his father a smile, before turning and walking to his bedroom.

Once Hanschen heard the door shut, he let out a long breath. Moving back to the bed, he slid the box of letters underneath it, on his side, and sat on the edge. Looking out of the window, at the just-night sky, he wondered how Ernst was. He told him, in his letters, how he was feeling, but Hanschen could never know what Ernst was truly feeling. Not stuck in Munich.

He put out the light, and slowly got into bed, curling up and staring out the window at the stars. For once, he allowed himself to think of Ernst as he drifted off to sleep. He allowed himself to think of the vineyard, and the beautiful boy with the freckled face and soft brown curls. He fell asleep thinking of Ernst, and for the first time in a long time, Hanschen slept through the night.


End file.
